


I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend

by GhostEz



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Annabeth has a whopping case of untreated ADHD, Can one bougie SoCal vow renewal save their relationship?, F/F, Fake Relationship, Kind of an office thing but not really, Kind of ex-friends to lovers, Mental Illness, No magic or gods, Slow Burn, Thalia used to be in love with Annabeth, also she thinks she's straight, and is also not coping well, and is not coping well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostEz/pseuds/GhostEz
Summary: Annabeth Chase is a workaholic, simple as that. And she maybe got so wrapped up in work that she didn't speak to any of her friends or family for six months. And she maybe told her dad she would bring a plus one to his vow renewal. And she maybe implied it's a woman.Thalia Grace is a bartender and member of a failing punk band who has finally gotten over her years-long crush on her straight best friend. That is, until said straight best friend calls her up and asks her to be her girlfriend for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong with that.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Thalia Grace
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter One: Annabeth

**Author's Note:**

> Title credit to girl in red.

Annabeth Chase was far too busy to be having this type of morning. She had three presentations before lunch and her preliminary design for the Endicott project was due by end of day today, not to mention lunch with Dr. Daniels, a professor from college who she was trying to convince to write her a letter of recommendation for her Masters application. And yet, despite all this, she found herself on the phone with instead of doing any of the rest of her morning routine. Andy was gonna have her ass for this.

“… and you have yet to RSVP for your father and I’s vow renewal next weekend,” her stepmother was saying. Annabeth was half-listening while trying to coax her ancient coffeepot to work. If you didn’t put the filter in exactly right, the grounds would spill everywhere, and she was not in the mood for gritty coffee again.  
“Yes! Uh, yes, I keep meaning to do that. Can you just put me down as a yes?” The thing had started clicking frantically, which usually meant it was working fine. Time to pick out clothes. Maybe if she did every part of her routine other than eating and getting ready in the bathroom, she would only be fifteen minutes late. Maybe. If the train didn’t try to fuck her again.

“Annabeth, you know we really prefer a paper RSVP. It’s so much easier to organize, and it’s an important piece of etiquette that has fallen out of use with your generation. I’m sure it’ll make it in time if you put it in the mail today,” she said. Annabeth could just barely see the corner of the invitation, sticking out from the massive pile of papers on her desk. She could also see the post-it note that said MAIL RSVP in messy handwriting, and the date circled on her calendar (two Mondays ago) that said the same. Maybe, if she could keep Helen on the phone til she got out of the house, she would remember to take the thing with her. She would just skip breakfast and bring her coffee to-go and chew gum in lieu of brushing her teeth. And maybe she wouldn’t be late this time.

“Okay, Helen. Paper RSVP. I promise. I’ll put it in the mail on the way to work. I promise.”

“Thank you, honey. Can’t wait to see you there.”

It was Wednesday by the time she realized. She was sitting in the fourth-floor conference room, with those awful glass walls she hated. The sun always made that room feel like a furnace. There were four preliminary designs for the Endicott project, one of them hers. It would be a major score to get a whole project under her belt before she turned 26. Obviously it wouldn’t be done by then, but even just saying her design had been chosen would look amazing on her applications. She had actually gotten up early for once, chosen her outfit carefully to accommodate for the room, and not spilled coffee on any of it. Andy smiled at her as she sat down, which she took as a really good sign. They’d discussed this weeks ago, how him being her direct supervisor would have no bearing on his decision about the Endicott project, but she knew he wanted her design. He had called it ‘visionary’ when she first texted him the idea. She had screenshotted and printed out the text, actually, not that she would ever tell anyone. She took a deep breath and debated grabbing one of the crullers in the middle of the table. No, she wouldn’t want to have her mouth full in case she actually got chosen. Andy stood up to begin the meeting.

“Good morning, folks. As you all know, this is the final meeting to choose the official design for the new Endicott building downtown. We’ve narrowed it down to four candidates, three of which were mailed in from other offices…”

She hadn’t mailed it. Of course she hadn’t mailed it. Helen had gone off on a tangent about some bitch in her office, and Annabeth hadn’t even remembered that there was something she was supposed to be remembering. Oh, Helen was gonna kill her. There was only one way out at this point. She pulled out her phone and started texting her dad, making sure to smile and nod at Andy every now and again so she seemed like she was listening.

I totally forgot to send that RSVP thingy!! Can you cover for me   
with Helen? Say you got it at work or something?  
…

A few minutes passed of nothing but the little dots to show he was typing. She could picture him, sitting at his desk in the library with one eye squinted shut, holding his phone in one hand and pecking out letters with the other. Maybe one day he’d finally listen to her and get glasses. 

“…and this is design number four, created by our very own Annabeth Chase.” Heads swiveled her way. Her working on Endicott hadn’t been a secret, but clearly nobody at the table had expected the new kid to make it this far. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Kyle, the other newer member of the firm, a fratty dark-haired guy who seemed especially dumbstruck.

Absoltely. U know my work address.  
Whatre u RVSPing as?

“I am pleased to announce that, after a lot of consideration by the whole team, the design we will be going with for the Endicott building is,” Annabeth felt another buzz against her leg. He was such a multi-texter. She typed a quick ‘yes!! might have big news’, hoping it would be enough to make him be quiet for at least a little. This meeting was more important now that the crisis was averted. “…that of Ms. Chase!” Andy said, beaming at her. 

Her heart almost stopped. She had actually gotten the Endicott project. She had spent hours and way too many late nights making sure her preliminary design was perfect. And she had gotten the Endicott project. People applauded lightly, but it sounded like fireworks. It had actually paid off. She could sing!  
And then her phone started buzzing furiously. At first it seemed like texts, then a phone call. It was impossible to ignore. Everybody was staring at her. She silenced her phone. Whatever it was, was a problem for after she was done basking in this moment!

“Really, really good work on the design, Chase.” A guy she didn’t know—maybe sixth floor? —clapped her on the shoulder as they exited the meeting. Melinda from Accounts nodded in agreement. This was, perhaps, the best day of Annabeth’s life. The rest of the meeting had been spent reviewing the fine details of her sketch and discussing budgeting. It was heaven to have everyone referring to her for near final say. She was actually going to get her childhood dream of changing a skyline. Annabeth allowed herself a little skip as she rounded the corner towards the elevators, briefly out of sight from her coworkers. She was going to tell everyone. It sucked that the vow thing was this weekend; she’d love to get blasted to celebrate. Maybe people wouldn’t mind getting shitfaced on a Wednesday in honor of a lifelong dream? She pulled out her phone to see the screen covered in notifications from her dad and stepmom. Shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have silenced her phone. But it would have looked worse to leave right after that. Plus, she had no idea what they were freaking out about. Maybe Dad had told on her to Helen. She opened the one voicemail from Helen, determined to get the yelling out of the way first.

“Hi Annabeth, it’s Helen!” Helen had never gotten used to caller id. “I’m just calling to say that I spoke to your dad and I’m so happy for you! You know, you could have told us about this sooner. I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. Either way, I can’t wait to see the two of you this weekend! Love you, bye!”

Huh. Weird. Had she mentioned the Endicott job to her dad? Had she maybe answered one of the calls with him on silent, so he had heard the meeting? She had only been keeping it secret from Dad and Helen because they had a tendency to be sort of nosy and she didn’t want to tell them if she didn’t get it. Plus, she had no idea what to make of the ‘two of you’ comment. Her and her dad, maybe? Helen wasn’t making a lot of sense. She opened the first of her dad’s three voicemails for clarification.

“Hi bud. I know I just texted you, but I’m excited! You can’t just drop something like that on your old man in text. You’ve got totally AWOL, so I get the feeling something is up. Just know, whoever it is, your stepmom and I love you no matter what.”

Something was very wrong here.

“Okay, I know that last voicemail came off a little intense. I don’t want to assume anything, we’ve just noticed a few things over the years and have had our suspicions, what with your new short hair and all. No, wait, no, that sounds bad. Ignore that part. Just… I meant it when I said whoever you bring is fine. I love you. Call me back soon.”

“I might just be digging myself into a deeper hole here, but I really just wanted to take back that hair comment. I know people of all sorts have all different sorts of styles, and I don’t mean to stereotype you. You’re my daughter and… and I’m not good at these sorts of things. Would you come over for dinner tonight? I’d love to have a conversation about this face-to-face. Okay. Great. Talk soon.”

Annabeth had, truly, no idea what was going on here. All she had said was that she was coming to the renewal. Plus, the comment about the short hair seemed like… well, like her dad thought she was gay, which was especially weird, because she wasn’t. Sure, she had shaved off her hair recently, leaving nothing of her so-called ‘princess curls’ but a mop on top of her head, but that was just because summer was getting so hot and the upkeep of long, curly hair was getting exhausting. She was going to have to have another talk with her dad about making assumptions. Annabeth flipped to her text history to see how this could have happened. 

Whatre u RSVPing as?  
Nd are u bringing a date?  
Yes!! Might have big news

Okay, so she had missed something kind of important in her dad’s follow up text. But the big problem was, right after her otherwise totally innocuous text, was an emoji. An otherwise totally innocuous emoji that she used regularly. The rainbow emoji. She was so fucked.

Rlly???  
Im so glad u finally feel comfortable enough   
to come out. We’ve known for some time and  
we love u no matter what. Cant wait to meat   
her!!!!!  
Im so happy u found somebody honey. I know  
its been a while and I’ve been worried about u  
in the city all alone. Maybe she cn even pry u away   
from work sometimes lol

I know im being a sap at this point but I hope  
she makes u happy. Been a while since ive seen  
u smile <3

Helen had texted her too.

Hi Annabeth!! Heard about your plus one!!   
So exciting!!! I’m sure your dad is covering all  
the emotions you need, but I just want to say that  
I hope this isn’t the reason we haven’t seen you  
in so long. Love and miss you, see you soon!

There was even a text from one of her brothers, Bobby. 

Yo heard you’re out. Nice. Does this mean we’ll   
actually see you again sometime?

Annabeth’s heart sank. She knew she’d been putting a lot of time into Endicott lately, but it wasn’t too much. She still saw people. At least, she thought she did. She’d been home for dinner last… well, okay, maybe it had been a little. But she didn’t know people were worried about her. Bobby even sounded kind of mad. She scrolled back through other texts on her phone. The only non-work person she’d had more than a two-text exchange with since January was Percy, but that was just cause Percy insisted on keeping her up to date on Game of Thrones since she had stopped watching, and it was mostly just Percy with one or two answers from Annabeth every now and again. It was nearly June. Had she dropped out of her life for six months without noticing?

Her phone buzzed. A calendar alert. Meeting in five minutes on the third floor to discuss handing over the Prentiss project to the GC. For a moment, she considered dismissing the notification and just walking out, maybe going to see her family. But that was crazy. It was a Wednesday. She had work to do. Everything would still be waiting for her at 5 pm.

The day passed in a blur. She texted her dad, agreed to dinner, refused to provide any more details. She didn’t even mention Endicott, which would have felt sacrilegious an hour ago. Annabeth had no idea what she was going to tell them. The biggest problem was that she wasn’t gay. She had dated several men, to varying levels of success. Percy was actually one of those; they had broken up amicably after realizing that they were better off friends and he remained one of her favorite people. So she couldn’t be gay. But the Endicott project suddenly didn’t feel important enough to have abandoned everything over. She kept looking back over her text history, seeing dodged invites and ignored questions and wondering how this could have happened. Annabeth knew that she had a tendency to block things out when she got focused. If she didn’t, she’d never focus at all. And the Endicott project was important. It was a concrete sign that she was doing the right thing, that she was good at her job. But she kept remembering her dad’s text. It had been a while since he’d seen her smile. Everybody else just said it had been a while since they’d even seen her. Her dad wasn’t really the guilt-tripping type, so that might account for the difference, but it felt like more. Maybe she’d ask him at dinner.

The Chase family home was a 35-minute drive outside the city without traffic. Annabeth tried to visit when she could, for dinners and weekends and parties. It had been some time since she’d last bothered, but the drive was still familiar. The beach stretched out on her right, sun setting in a brilliant orange over the water. It was usually relaxing to watch the skyscrapers recede into the distance, but Annabeth’s shoulders remained tense. She still hadn’t come up with a clever way to get out of the gay/work/AWOL situation, and it seemed like she was just going to have to settle for the truth. Her father would get it, of course. He wasn’t quite as bad as her, but he still got sucked into his work for hours on end, missing meals and events. Helen, though? Bobby and Matthew? As much as she loved her stepfamily, they weren’t quite the same. Helen would get quiet and disappointed, Bobby would yell, Matthew would stalk off to his room. It would be unpleasant. Maybe she deserved the unpleasantness, she thought to herself as she pulled into the driveway. She had been unpleasant to them for some time now.

The house was the same as always, huge and completely cookie-cutter. Helen was a maxillofacial surgeon, so she made more than enough money to support her dad’s half-profession, half-hobby of war tactics professor. The shrubs out front were brown, because Helen had insisted on an East Coast local species she remembered from her childhood so they never grew properly, but they were perfectly trimmed and looked nice with the manicured lawn. Annabeth briefly thought about the shabby ranch-style house they’d lived in until high school, when Helen came along. The house was nice, but it still hardly felt like hers. She rang the doorbell and tried to look like she was excited to be there.

Helen answered of course, swinging the glass-front door open wildly and spreading her arms for a hug.

“Annabeth, darling! It’s been so long I’d nearly forgotten what you looked like,” she said, squashing Annabeth against her chest. She smiled against her best intentions. It was hard not to get a little caught up in Helen’s excitement.

“Hi, Helen. Long time no see. I can’t wait to catch up with you guys. I brought a bottle of your favorite Merlot, if I’m remembering correctly?” Of course she was remembering correctly. Annabeth kept indexed lists of the favorites of everyone in her life, to be sure she wouldn’t miss anything or mix them up. Helen lit up seeing the bottle. Over her shoulder, Annabeth could see Bobby and Matthew skulking in the hallway. They were seniors in high school, just getting ready for college, she reminded herself. Bobby was talking Stanford. Matthew was considering out of state. She smiled at them out of another of Helen’s hugs, but only Bobby returned the grin before slouching off towards the dining room. Odd. Annabeth also now remembered that Matthew was the only one who hadn’t texted her after her ‘big news.’ 

“We’re doing fish tonight, so the Merlot absolutely will not go, but we can have it after dinner. I think I’ve got a chocolate cake frozen somewhere, and that would be just sumptuous! Now come in, come in. Your father is still in his study, naturally, so I have to go drag him away, but he is excited to see you!” Helen gushed before sweeping away. Annabeth found herself alone in the entrance with Matthew, who suddenly flushed bright crimson and cleared his throat.

“So, uh… you’re gay now?” he asked, wincing. Annabeth felt the hot rush of shame, and couldn’t say anything. Luckily, Matthew took this as indication to continue. “How… how did it go? Were Mom and Dad cool? I mean, obviously you’re over for dinner, so that’s something, but did we not see you for months because they weren’t cool? Do you have any advice about coming out? I think I’m bi and if it went okay for you I want to tell them.”

The words spilled from his mouth in such a rush that Matthew almost seemed not to be aware of what he was actually saying. Annabeth, however, was all too aware. This was the nightmare scenario. Because she hadn’t either come clean or come up with something clever, this was now a disaster. Sure, she could tell Matthew that they were cool, and they probably would be. But this felt like a transgression. It felt like lying, like betrayal. She shouldn’t have this information. She hadn’t earned it. Annabeth could feel her breathing start to pick up, and the room swam a little. God, she had fucked up so badly. Everybody was going to hate her when they found out. She certainly couldn’t tell Matthew that she was just a workaholic, but she had to tell him something. Annabeth took a deep breath and tried to formulate an explanation.

“Mom and Dad aren’t the reason I haven’t been around. I don’t think coming out to them would go badly, but you might want to give it a minute to let the dust settle around me first, okay?” It wasn’t a lie, technically. She never said she was gay, and there would certainly be dust to settle. But all she had really done was given herself time to come up with something, anything better than that she just thought it was a good idea to blow off all of her loved ones for six months. Matthew smiled at her hopefully. It was heartbreaking.

“That sounds like a really good plan. I’m glad it wasn’t them. And I’m glad you’re back,” he said. Annabeth ruffled his hair, and he allowed it for once.

“I’m glad, too. Now let’s go eat some dinner.”

The Chases had money, but they certainly didn’t have servant money, so Helen and her dad traded off cooking. Luckily, it was Helen’s night, because while her dad had been known to turn out some truly delicious meals, other concoctions of his deserved their own horror movie. Helen, on the other hand, was a reasonable cook who could always be counted on to make something edible. That night, it was the old Chase family fish and chips, a classic made much better by the high-quality fish Helen always bought. Her dad gave her a massive bear hug as her and Matthew joined the rest of the family. Then, there were a few minutes of tense silence as everyone began to eat, unsure of how to start the conversation. Annabeth watched Helen shoot her father a look, which her father shot back at Helen. Matthew smiled at her again, that same tentative, hopeful smile. Her stomach turned, and she picked at her fish.

“So…” her dad started, drawing out the word in the hope someone else would jump in. when nobody did, he sighed and continued. “You said you had some big news, Annabeth?”

She had not bought herself nearly enough time. She had no idea what her plan was. Annabeth was pretty sure that an out-of-body experience was supposed to be a religious thing or a death thing, but she could swear she was watching herself from ten feet back. Maybe she was dying. The version of her sitting at the table set down her cutlery and folded her hands.

“Yeah, Dad, I do,” that version said. Annabeth hoped she had a better plan. “You all kind of guessed it already, but I suppose it bears saying: I’m gay. And my plus one for your vow renewal is a girl. I know I’ve been distant lately. I was trying to make up my mind. It feels so hard to find the right time to do these things. I know that this is big news, but I’d really rather spend tonight catching up on each other than focusing on me.”

That Annabeth did not have a good plan. That Annabeth had, in fact, the worst possible plan that was sure to end up in the most hurt and mess. But she still hadn’t ceded control of the body back to the Annabeth who knew that, the Annabeth who was going to have to deal with the fallout and somehow come up with a fake girlfriend by this Friday. 

But it was hard not to notice the reaction around the table. Helen nodded the whole time she was speaking. Her dad was smiling so wide she was genuinely worried he might split the corners of his mouth. Matthew was looking back and forth between her and his parents, that same glimmering hope in his eyes. Even Bobby smiled as he kicked her lightly under the table. Nobody hated her. Nobody was mad. And she had just bought herself all the time she needed to come with a way out. Maybe it was a little unethical to pretend to be a member of a marginalized group to get out of trouble. Okay, it turned her stomach if she thought about it for more than two seconds. But it would just be for a little bit, maybe even just the weekend, and then she could announce that she had been wrong and was straight the whole time and it would be over. One weekend couldn’t be that bad. All she needed was a date.


	2. Chapter Two: Thalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thalia has to decide what she's willing to put on the line for Annabeth.

My mother used to say that bartending was a dead-end job for drunks and performers who would never believe in themselves enough to make it. Given that she drank herself to death nearly five years ago to date, I’ve never taken her advice seriously. 

Honestly, bartending is one of two places that the world actually makes sense to me. Bartending and performing. When I’m performing, the whole world fades out until there’s nothing but me and the music, but bartending actually snaps things into focus. The rhythm of it is comfortable- whiskey on the rocks, smile for a tip, napkin on the left, regular who wants to be left alone, whiskey on the rocks again. I’m not too fast, tripping over my feet and my words and other people’s expectations. I am always as good of a bartender as people expect me to be.

Wednesday nights I work til close with Raphael, who is a work friend but not a friend friend. He has a tendency to get bitchy if I get more tips, but he’s almost as smooth as I am, so we work well together. I slipped behind him as he shook a gin and tonic much more dramatically than he has to, snagging a cherry for Mrs. Everly’s first Manhattan. Every Wednesday at 7:15 she comes in to nurse two Manhattans while her husband has an affair with his secretary, and she tips better when the drink is ready before she sits down. Plus, if it’s already there, I don’t have to listen to her complain about “that harlot” again. The glass clinked quietly as I set it down on her table, and she smiled at me as she walks in. 

Everything was running like clockwork. Wednesdays are always quiet, but it seemed quieter than usual, so I checked my phone while I could. There was a text from Mikey in the group chat with some idiotic new song idea, of course, and one from Angela complaining about Mikey to just me. A couple of spam emails, twitter notifications that I don’t care about, and, surprise of surprises, a series of texts from Annabeth. We were joined at the hip in college, but somewhere between me dropping out and her bigshot office job… I don’t know. Not so much anymore. I hadn’t heard from her in easily six or seven months. The text on top said something about a vow renewal, but before I could actually read it or open my phone, another one came through:

So would you pretty please be my girlfriend?

I nearly dropped my fucking phone. 

Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase, my straight best friend over whom I tortured myself for the last four and a half years, whose straight up ghosting of me was the only reason I didn’t torture myself for five full years and instead spent the last six months serial dating blondes, was asking me to be her girlfriend. Over. Fucking. Text. I was gonna absolutely kill that girl when I saw her. Behind me, Raphael cleared his throat and pointed his head at the huge group of tourists sitting down at the bar. Right. Work. I put my phone down and decided that, if I can wait five years, Annabeth Chase can wait the next hour.

But the world had lost its crystal clarity. I smiled at the wrong patron, mixed up the ingredients in a whiskey sour, and stepped on Raphael’s foot. Worse, I was late with Mrs. Everly’s second Manhattan and she was forced to come up to the bar herself, arms crossed and foot tapping, blowing a $25 tip. When it came time for my break, Raphael just gestured to the back without a word. He was gonna hold a grudge about the foot thing, but that was a problem for after I dealt with Annabeth.

The back is, as in most dive bars, just sort of a closet that the owner put a stool and a side table in. If you wanted any more amenities than that, you sat with the customers. Usually I would, chatting and laughing and endearing myself for when they can tip me again, but I got the sense I was going to need privacy to deal with whatever this was. Annabeth Chase. God, it really did make sense that she would ghost the world just to figure out if she’s queer or not. Even Percy said he hadn’t heard back from her lately. I sighed, slouched as best I could on a stool, and opened my phone.

Hey Thalia. I know we haven’t spoken in  
a while and I’m really sorry. I Chase’d   
out again

I smiled at that. She had a tendency, in college, to focus so hard on schoolwork that she would forget that anything else existed, even food and sleep and friends, and after one too many times of having a conversation with a brick wall, I accused her of chasing people away. Of course, she explained that it was the only way she could focus, and I forgave her, and chasing people away soon became Chase-ing away, our in-code for her near fugue states. It was nice to know she still used it.

I know this is crazy, and I know you don’t  
owe me anything, but I’m in kind of a bind

I really scared my family with this last one  
and then I misspoke and now they think  
I’m gay and bringing my girlfriend to   
their vow renewal this weekend and   
Matthew is bi and they’re gonna freak   
if they find out what actually happened

So would you pretty please be my girlfriend?

I really should have known. I should have known. In college, Annabeth dated a series of successively more annoying business majors. No queer girl would have that bad of taste in guys. And I had more respect for myself than to pretend to be the girlfriend of my kind of ex-best friend who I was kind of still in love with. I thought I did, at least. It had been six months since I got so much as a text message from her. I wasn’t just gonna be at her beck and call. I leaned my head back against the wall and tried to be righteously angry and not to think about how on the nose it was to be having this debate with myself in a closet. 

I met Annabeth in an Intro to College Writing class. She was already there when I walked in, blonde and well-dressed and sitting in the front row and I hated her and her bag stuffed with books on sight. I just knew she was going to be the sort of teacher’s pet that made fun of me when I got called on to read out loud. I took my usual position in the back corner and glared at the other students hard enough that no one would sit near me. College was off to a raring start. And, for the first two weeks, things went exactly as I predicted. She had longwinded answers to the professor’s questions, stepped on other people in discussion, and stayed after to discuss things she felt hadn’t gotten enough class time. Then, on the first day of the third week, I arrived before her. She stumbled into class five minutes later, sweater askew, papers falling out of her bag, and was forced to sit in the only seat left: next to me. And, as luck would have it, that was the day we were getting our first essays back. The professor was the sort to walk around and give them out by hand, so we were forced to sit around waiting. Annabeth turned to me, looking more tired than I’d ever seen anyone look, and said

“How do you think you did? I thought the prompt was unnecessarily vague and difficult to build on, but I think I did okay despite that.” I, being the absolute bitch I was at the time, just sort of huffed. Of course she was the type of person to compare grades before they were even back, I thought.

I got my paper back before her, a predictable C with the usual number of comments about sentence structure and syntax, and stuffed it in my bag without a second thought. Annabeth’s paper came back last. I caught one glimpse of it before she put it away: a D-, with a big post-it that just said SEE ME AFTER CLASS. I watched, expecting her to flush or protest or do any of the normal overachiever things. Instead, she just sighed and put it in a folder, like it was what she had been expecting all along. After class, she trudged obligingly up to the professor. I packed my bag slowly, hoping to figure out what had gone wrong with this obviously straight-A student. 

“Miss Chase, you have such potential,” he began, and I recognized the opening movement of a familiar lecture. The ‘if you would just apply yourself,’ the ‘you’re so much better than this’ lecture that I had been receiving since the beginning of time, or until I stopped looking like I was so much better that this. I packed up and left. And the next day, when she stumbled in late again and was forced into my corner, I gave her my number so we could complain about what a miserable asshole this professor was. 

I opened my phone, considered sending her a fun gif of multiple people flipping her off, and called my brother instead. Jason was a few years younger, still working his way through his last year of school, and as I’d been told more than enough times, the responsible one. He and I both knew that was mostly a front. I also knew that he wouldn’t lie to me, and that he’d been more or less where I was. Not exactly, because truly only Annabeth Chase would have the balls to pull this bullshit, but he and Leo had danced around each other for years before they finally managed to start dating. He picked up on the third ring.

“’Lo?” he said, voice thick with sleep. Right. It was past midnight. 

“Hey, Jason, it’s me. I need your advice on something.” I heard him sigh heavily.

“Can it wait til morning? I’ve got an 8 am tomorrow.”

“It really needs to be now. I’ll buy you coffee for a week.” I figured if brotherly love wasn’t enough to sway him, free caffeine certainly would be.

“Fine. But we’re not going to one of your weird indie places. I want Starbucks,” he answered. Predictable. I’d never met someone who looked so much like a Young Republican and loved those little whipped cream bullshit drinks as much as he did. 

“Consider it done,” I said. “So, on a scale from perfectly fine way to spend a weekend to heights of masochism, how incredibly stupid would it be for me to take Annabeth up on her offer to be her pretend girlfriend?” Even over the phone, there was a loud creaking sound as Jason shot bolt upright on his shitty dorm mattress, followed by a loud shushing from his irritable roommate. I heard him leave his room, could picture him blinking in the all-night lights of the hallway. 

“That’s such a bad idea that I would forbid you if I thought it would make any difference. You haven’t seen her in months! You’ve been dating lookalikes! God, I’ve been meaning to intervene, but I hoped this would all just go away—”

“Well, I was thinking that it was maybe like you and Leo and—”

“Leo’s fucking gay, Thalia!” he shouted. I half-flinched in the dark, and I heard him take a deep breath to steady himself. Knowing him, he probably ran his hand through his hair and sat down against the wall. “You are an adult, so I’m not gonna stop you from making whatever choice you want. God, you know so well that this is gonna be nothing but self-flagellating bullshit that you asked me specifically if it would be that. I don’t know if there’s more to say than that, and I really do need to be up in the morning.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fair. Get some sleep.” I said.

“Just… if you go, please tell me? Cause I’m gonna be here on the other side, but it’ll be better if you give me a chance to stock up on ice cream first,” he joked. I smiled wanly, not that he could see me. 

“Yeah, Jason. I’ll let you know.” And I hung up the phone. I wasn’t sure what else I was expecting. Of course, he was right. Of course, it wasn’t like him and Leo. But, I realized, as I sat there in the dark, waiting to my break to end, Jason’s words still in my head, it was something. Maybe it was just self-flagellating bullshit. But I remembered her world-weary sigh as she got handed back that first paper, the grin on her face when she got her first C in that class, like the sun had just come out for the first time in years. I opened my phone.

Yeah, dude. Whatever you need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so weekly updates are hard, but whenever the updates come out, they're gonna keep coming. I'm actually pretty excited about this.


	3. Chapter Three: Annabeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing to it but to do it... and obsess over all the myriad ways it can go wrong, and practice kissing

Annabeth Chase was pretty sure she was a genius. Thalia was the only person she could have asked, really, but it was going to be perfect. Back in college her and Thalia had been pretty touchy friends, so she wasn’t worried about the level of physical affection giving them away. Plus, Thalia basically looked exactly like what everyone thought of when you said ‘lesbian’. It couldn’t have been better if Annabeth had picked her out of a catalogue.

Then why was she anxiously pacing back and forth in the near-empty beige room her parents kept in their house for her? Thalia had agreed to meet her here before they drove to the hotel the vow renewal was going to be at, and it was now only fifteen minutes until she was supposed to arrive. Theoretically, the hour-long drive to the venue was supposed to give the family space to meet her new girlfriend before all the craziness of the ceremony kicked in. Realistically, this was the point in the plan at which they were most likely to get caught; if they didn’t have their story together now, it would fuck up the whole weekend. It was as good a reason as any to be anxious.

But Annabeth knew that wasn’t quite it. She had once been accused of intellectualizing her problems by an ex-boyfriend, and she was pretty sure that was what she was doing. The truth was that she hadn’t seen Thalia in months. She didn’t actually know how many at this point, and that hurt worse than anything else. What if they weren’t friends anymore? Their relationship was never easy, her too distracted and Thalia too prickly to fall together comfortably, but it always worked out in the end. They worked it out. And she knew she had abandoned her end of the bargain. She would have held it against Thalia if the situation were reversed. More than that, Annabeth had discovered a bruise-y ache somewhere in her heart that could only be attributed to lack of Thalia. She’d never been much for missing people—too much to do to slow down that much—but remembering how things used to be had brought up this hurt and she didn’t know what to do with it but she knew she didn’t like it. What if Thalia didn’t feel the same? What if there was nothing past this weekend of awkward lying?

Downstairs

Shit. Well, now or never. Annabeth flung open the door, remembered when that used to knock down Thalia’s many poorly attached band posters, and scurried down the stairs. She had to intercept Thalia before her family did.

Too late, of course. From an upper landing, Annabeth could see Thalia stood, awkward and dark in the big, bright foyer, flocked by Helen and her dad. The lumpy, holey duffel bag in Helen’s hands suggested that they had already been talking long enough for Helen to insist on taking her things, but the chunky combat boots on Thalia’s feet said that it hadn’t been long enough for Helen to begin to worry about her cream carpets. Maybe Annabeth had time to stop too much damage from being done.

“Hey, kiddo!” her dad said, scrubbing his hand awkwardly over his newly shaven head. “We were just talking to Thalia. It’s been ages since we’ve seen her.” At that, Helen jabbed a not-so-subtle elbow into his side and smiled sunnily up at Annabeth.

“But we’re not trying to critique your process, honey! We understand that this must have been hard for you, but we’re here to support you and we’re so glad you’re both here to support us!” Good, so she was now causing problems between the two of them. That was exactly what she needed to add to this weekend. Her father rubbed his ribs and sighed. 

And then, Thalia finally looked up at her. Mostly she was the same as she’d always been—same spiky, cropped dark hair, same bright blue eyes, same smudgy liner that always made her look exhausted. Newly, though, there was a beat of hesitance in her smile, like she didn’t know quite what to do. That was Annabeth’s fault, of course. From the first day they had spoken, Thalia had always been completely confident in what she was doing. It was something Annabeth had always admired about her. And Annabeth had gone and made it fucking weird. Worse, they couldn’t even deal with the weirdness here. So, she smiled back as brightly as she could manage, and tried to repress all the recriminations and worst-case scenarios that were screaming in her head.

“I know you’ve got my back, don’t worry. I’m sorry for keeping you out. I’m gonna be better about that, I promise. But, for now, could me and my… girlfriend get a second alone?” she choked out. Thalia’s only response was a slow blink before also turning to smile at her parents. Helen smiled back indulgently.

“Oh, I remember being your age, young and in love. Take as much time as you need, but don’t forget we’re leaving in half an hour. Thalia, I’ll put your bag in the car for you.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Chase,” Thalia said as she trooped up the stairs, but Helen tutted as she bustled out of the room.

“Honey, you’re family now. Call me Helen.”

The walk to Annabeth’s fake room was so quiet that Annabeth internally thanked the gods that Bobby and Matthew were in the basement. Nobody who saw them right then would have ever believed they were dating, or at least that they were dating happily. The silence chilled Annabeth to the bone. She had been right. Everything was weird and bad and ruined and it was her fault. She took a shaky breath and gestured to the open door, trying to figure out how to fix this. There had to be something she could say. Thalia sat down, surveying the room for a moment before looking at Annabeth. Oh, god, she had really fucked up. 

“So…” Thalia said.

“I’m sorry!” Annabeth said quickly. Thalia cocked her head to the side, and Annabeth took it as a sign to continue. “I’m sorry, I know I ghosted, I know it was bad, and I know it was worse to ask you for a favor after that. I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to. I… I miss you.”

There was a short, sharp pause as Thalia seemed to comprehend her words. The tension in her shoulders released, and Annabeth crossed the room to where Thalia sat on the bed. Annabeth didn’t want to get in her space yet, so she sat on the ground in front of her. Thalia tracked her progress with her eyes and still didn’t speak. Annabeth’s stomach churned. She had ruined it, maybe worse than before, she was sure of it. Normally, she would leave, call the whole thing off, let Thalia think whatever she wanted and just try to do better next time, but this time it… mattered more, somehow. 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever apologized for disappearing on me,” Thalia said, her voice creaky like she hadn’t used it in a while. Annabeth just waited. “I’m gonna level with you, it’s not great. But I didn’t agree to do this just to fuck you over. If I was really mad, I would’ve just left you on read.” Thalia laughed, half-bitterly, and Annabeth breathed for what felt like the first time in several minutes. Okay. It was okay. She could make it okay. “Just… don’t pull that shit again, okay? Fucking text me or something. Cause I’m not taking another six-month hiatus. And, also? You’re doing a shit job pretending to date me so far.”

It was Annabeth’s turn to laugh, choked and strange. She hadn’t ruined everything. She got up off the floor, crossed to the desk where she had left her notebook, and flipped to the page where she had charted out a potential timeline for their fake relationship. According to her scribbled notes, Thalia was the first person she had come out to, confessing her long love for her at the same time, and they had started dating the next week, making it nearly three months into their relationship. Annabeth went to nearly all of Thalia’s shows in that time, Thalia had started bringing Annabeth Thai food when she stayed at work too late, and they were just starting Game of Thrones together. Thalia took it all in, nodded. 

“This is all good to know, but it doesn’t have any of the important stuff,” she said.

“Important stuff?”

“Like, do we have pet names, do we hold hands in public, do we share clothes, have we said the l-word yet?” 

“We’ve been dating for three months! Of course we haven’t said I love you yet!” Thalia laughed again, knowingly this time.

“Oh, honey, you’re a lesbian now. Three months in lesbian time in like a year in straight time. We should have plans to move in soon.”

Annabeth blanched. She hadn’t considered that gay relationships would be different. She was used to being dodged for Call of Duty marathons, not sharing clothes and living together. She flopped back on the bed and tried to reconsider. A year in straight time. She’d never had a relationship that long, topping out at eight months with Percy, because they were at least suited to be friends. Maybe she couldn’t do this. She didn’t have the frame of reference she thought she did. They’d need so much more than she had planned for. This was going to be a disaster. They’d get caught before they even got into the car and everyone was going to be furious with her and—

Thalia flopped onto the bed next to her, interrupting her train of thought. Up close, Annabeth could see the threads of darker blue in her eyes, the careful smudging of her eyeliner and where it had been cleaned up. She had a smattering of delicate freckles on her nose that Annabeth had never noticed before.

“Hey. You’re obsessing. We don’t need every detail to be perfect. Your parents want you to be happy. All you have to do is look happy, and they’ll believe anything you want to tell them, okay?” Thalia’s mouth quirked into a small smile, drawing Annabeth’s attention. She still bit her lips. Maybe Annabeth should start carrying chapstick? That could be an appropriately couple-y thing to do. She’d done it ages ago, when they’d first started living together, before all the weirdness. “How’s this: we hold hands and all that in public, I’ll give you a shirt or two and you do the same, and we don’t have to worry about love yet.”

“Okay. Okay. Yeah, I think that works,” Annabeth said. “Um. I could call you babe?” Thalia’s eyes flickered briefly off to the side, full of some emotion that she couldn’t understand, but they came back quickly.

“Babe sounds good. I don’t think we’re big pet name people anyway. The cutesy ones make me sick to my stomach,” Thalia laughed, leaning up on her elbow. “I think there’s just one other important question to answer.”

“What’s that?” Annabeth asked. She felt strange, her mouth dry, her thoughts slow. Thalia was outlined by the weak light from the weird lamp in the corner of the room. Annabeth was usually taller, so it was strange to be looking up at her. There was a crash and a peal of laughter from downstairs, but it felt weirdly muted. Thalia smiled again, and it was almost self-conscious.

“What about kissing?” Oh. Annabeth suddenly remembered the time she had brought Percy to the family Christmas Eve party; Helen had taken about a trillion pictures, including one of the two of them kissing under the mistletoe that she had absolutely insisted on. There was going to be a professional photographer at the vow renewal. 

“Helen’s trying so hard to be supportive. We’re going to have to, at least once. Fuck,” Annabeth said. She closed her eyes and thinking got easier. Okay. This was going to be on film forever. It had to look good, or the jig was completely up. She opened them to see Thalia watching her intently. “I don’t know if this is anything but… god, do you want to practice?”

There was another of those short, sharp pauses, and Annabeth thought that she had fucked up again. Thalia’s eyes flickered closed, and she took an unsteady breath. 

“Yes,” she said, opening them again and shoving herself suddenly off the bed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Come over here.” 

The room was suddenly electric, like there wasn’t enough air in it for both of them. Annabeth check the door, which was still solidly shut. Somehow this felt like something she was going to get in trouble for, despite it being the closest thing to what she was actually supposed to be doing that they had done since they shut the door. Thalia stood in the empty space between the bed and the dresser. Annabeth crossed slowly. She had never felt like this before, had no idea what it was. It felt almost like one of the few times Thalia had gotten truly angry at her, after she had stumbled in late and drunk one night. She had missed Thalia’s first show with a new group to see some frat boy. He hadn’t mattered in the end. The air was like that, tense and ready to snap. She didn’t know how close to get to Thalia, stopped a full six inches away. Thalia sighed.

“If you kiss me from eight feet away, then they’re definitely going to know. You have to come here.” Thalia grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer until they were barely an inch apart. She almost looked mad, too. Annabeth’s mouth was dry again. Thalia looked at her. “You’ve kissed before. It’s exactly the same, except this time it’s me. All you have to do is not overthink it, okay?”

And Thalia leaned in. Annabeth closed her eyes and tried not to think. In the breath before the kiss, her hands found Thalia’s waist. The soft curve of it made it impossible not to think about the differences. Then, their lips met. Thalia’s were gentle but scratchy with the marks of her lip-biting, and so, so warm. She kissed like she knew what she was doing. It was a simple kiss, nothing messy. Thalia’s hand threaded into her hair, pulling her briefly closer, and she tightened her own grip on her waist. And then, it was over.

Annabeth blinked as she opened her eyes, the sandy color of the room making everything seem blown out. The kiss had been… strange. She’d certainly never had a kiss like that before. Thalia was much gentler, of course, but there was something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She supposed it wasn’t bad, at least.

Her eyes adjusted just in time to see Thalia furiously sweep something under her eye, smearing the perfectly smudged eyeliner into a streak down her face. If Annabeth didn’t know any better, she’d say Thalia had been crying. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So scheduling isn't my strong suit, but this piece is still chugging along, and now that the setup is done, it's just gonna be sad and gay for a while. Strap in folks. (Annabeth here inspired by me, who kissed my best friend and liked it and didn’t realize that meant I probably wasn’t straight until full years after the fact)


	4. Chapter Four: Thalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thalia grapples with what she signed up for

Jason was never gonna let me live this down. Not only did I ignore his advice and accurate predictions, I got emotionally fucked literally fifteen minutes in. We hadn’t even left Annabeth’s house and I was already fucking crying. I could practically hear him saying “I told you so” while he got me ice cream and a blanket. 

It was a fucking amazing kiss. Of course it was. It couldn’t have just been awkward but tolerable, put to rest all my lingering hopes and forced me to finally move on. No, it had to be quiet and perfect and the sort of firework-inducing bullshit they write about in dollar store romance novels. It had to send my stupid heart fluttering and remind me that I never, ever learn my lesson. And it had to be just short enough that I was pretty sure that Annabeth wanted nothing to do with it. With me.

I tried to wipe my eyes before hers refocused, tried not to read into the trancelike way she stared around the room—it looks like her mind was just blown, maybe, maybe—but of course I couldn’t have that either.

“Thalia?” she asked, worried. I forced myself to laugh. 

“I know, I know. This looks bad, but I promise my eyes are just watering from allergies. It’s the season for it.” She didn’t believe me. I saw that much in the way her head cocked, the tiny furrow between her brows. Annabeth Chase, in a million places at once but somehow still able to read me like a children’s book. She opened her mouth—it was warm and soft and tasted like vanilla chapstick and—and there was a voice from downstairs.

“Girls! It’s time to get moving!” Helen, saving my ass. I’d take it. Annabeth cut her eyes at me in a way that meant that we’d be talking about this later and then, falteringly but stubbornly, grabbed my hand. She had such soft hands, desk job hands, but her cuticles were a bloody mess. She’d been stressed, probably not sleeping. I’d ask her about what had kept her away from everyone eventually, once I was done having a truly Shakesperian meltdown.

Helen drove a nice SUV, glossy black, but six is a lot of people for any car and wiggle room was severely limited. Annabeth and I were crammed into the tiny third row, Bobby and Matthew in the middle with all the favors, Frederick driving, and Helen giving running commentary from the front row.

“… so anyway, that’s why the seating arrangement is such a mess. I just think it’s tactless not to tell people that you’re coming until the last minute, especially if you plan on bringing someone—” she broke off, realizing that that was exactly what Annabeth had done, and a silence fell over the car. Annabeth’s thigh was warm where it was pressed against mine, her hand laying limp in her lap, and I briefly considered grabbing it just to prove that I was chill. I wasn’t chill, so I didn’t. The silence lasted until Bobby corkscrewed around in his seat and looked right at me.

“I think we’re supposed to be getting acquainted,” he said. Ball in my court. Annabeth had warned me as we walked to the car that Bobby would be hardest to win over. 

“I think so. What do you want to know?” Ball in his court. Bobby was a little younger than Jason. He didn’t scare me, and I wasn’t going to act like he did to soothe his ego. He pursed his mouth, recognizing this.

“How long’ve you been dating?”

“Three months.”

“How’d it happen?”

“It was Annabeth’s idea. She’d had a crush on me for ages.”

“Did you like her?”

“Didn’t realize til she told me, but yeah.”

“Was it your idea for her to avoid us?” There it was, the barb in his side. His eyes narrowed as he said it, moving back and forth between me and Annabeth. He thought it was my fault, but worried it was hers. Past him, Matthew and Helen were watching, and even Frederick was glancing in the rearview mirror too often to be coincidence. Outside, the ocean crashed against the rocky cliffs below, and I hesitated. This wasn’t my part of the story to tell. 

“No. And there’s no need for the third degree, Bobby,” Annabeth broke in. “There’s three unaccounted-for months in there, in case you didn’t notice. I needed to deal with things in my own time. And I am sorry for how this affected you all, again. But don’t take it out on Thalia. I—” she interrupted herself this time, looked at me, let the beginning of something hang in the air for a charged moment. Then, she turned back to face her family with the air of someone giving the final word on a subject. “She’s good for me. So ask her about her band or her job or something normal.”

And then, with that same air of stubborn performance that characterized far too many of her actions, she kissed me on the cheek. I blushed, tried not to blush, failed. God, I hadn’t been this much of a mess around a girl since I was sixteen. I’d been better around Annabeth in the past, and she used to kiss me on the cheek whenever she left the room for class. It was half a joke, half a reminder for when I looked up to talk with her and found her gone. I had been chill then. Now, with the eyes of her family on me, I was a wreck. I could see them watching the way we interacted, the heat in my cheeks, the deliberateness of her choices. Bobby nodded, only half-convinced, but sat back against his seat. Helen turned around like she knew she had been yelled at. Only Matthew stayed watching, seemingly on the verge of saying something. I could be chill. I grabbed Annabeth’s hand, the first time I had initiated casual contact, tried not to overthink.

“What’s the name of your band?” Matthew asked.

Most of the rest of the car ride was fine. I explained about my band, about Mikey and his various terriblenesses and the fact that we needed him, about my job and how it fit together with Annabeth’s schedule. It was lucky that I was used to this, spinning stories about somebody else I might as well be. The details came easy. I could see Annabeth’s hand twitch every now and again as I invented some new fact about our mythical shared life that she ached to write down. Then, as I was telling some theoretically charming and utterly false anecdote in which Annabeth tried and failed to surprise me with dinner, she took our hands from where they rested in the neutral zone on the edge of each of our thighs to her mouth, kissing the back of mine. 

My brain short-circuited. It was perfect, of course, the sort of thing a partner does rather than laugh at themselves during exactly this type of anecdote and so smooth it seemed like it was something she had done before. In a matter of seconds, I had spun out, picturing movies and dinners and barbecues and all the millions of situations in which she would have kissed the back of my hand if we were dating, if it stuck. It felt normal. It felt real. I stopped midsentence. Annabeth smiled at me, eyes intense, a “keep going!” type of look. The back of my hand was warm where her lips had touched it. She was still holding it. 

That was when I decided that I was going to let this ruin my life, at least for a little while, because it was real enough. It would have to be enough. I was going to throw myself into absolutely every second of this misbegotten weekend, pretend it was real as much as I could, and that would be it. Annabeth would drift back into whatever her life looked like now, forget about me again, and I would hold onto this weekend for the rest of time and never reach out, like the worst version of a one-night stand. I couldn’t keep living this half-life of loving her and it never quite being enough. This was all there was for us, and I was going to make the most of it. I smiled back at her, bright and brittle as glass, and picked up my story exactly where I had left it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter after the long break, my motivation kind of died and I'm trying to coax it back to life. Hopefully a longer one next week?


	5. Chapter Five: Annabeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The renewal festivities begin, and Annabeth is not as smooth as she thinks she is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is no sexual content in this chapter, but there is somewhat suggestive content near the end of the chapter. I wasn't expecting this, and idk if I'm gonna have to change the rating, but nothing actually happens here. More notes at the end.

Annabeth was going to absolutely lose her mind. They were finally pulling up to the hotel, which was exactly as Southern California chic as she had anticipated, and Thalia had just recovered from her latest bout of weirdness. The car ride had been a series of long pauses and lingering looks and she had no idea what to do with any of it. Was Thalia still mad at her? Probably. But they didn’t quite look like Thalia’s mad looks, and she had been crying earlier, Annabeth was absolutely certain of that.

“All right, everybody out!” said her dad. She blinked as the door to the SUV swung open, allowing the bright sunlight to come streaming in. The way it bounced off the whitish-yellowish brick of the hotel only served to intensify it. She stumbled out after the twins, knees weak from the long ride, and felt Thalia start to careen into her back. Annabeth hadn’t played a sport in easily six years, but the old reactions were still there, so she spun and caught her before she hit the pavement in an awkward approximation of a dip, Thalia’s legs still caught in the seats. Behind her, Bobby clapped sarcastically and her dad laughed and there was a distinctive shutter sound as Helen took a picture. So, that was starting already. 

Then, Annabeth looked at Thalia. There was the barest hint of blush on her cheeks, and her mouth was slightly open. It seemed that Thalia had forgotten that, despite everything else about her, Annabeth had always had good reflexes. Briefly, a voice in the back of Annabeth’s mind noted how cute Thalia looked when surprised. It was a rare look for her. Trying to seem natural and confident, Annabeth lifted Thalia up from the half-dip and gave her a kiss. Bobby and Matthew ooh’d. Annabeth’s head spun. Thalia grabbed Annabeth’s upper arms, started to lean in, and then pulled back with a start. No crying this time, which was probably a good sign. Maybe everything was fine actually?

“Aren’t you girls just the cutest thing,” Helen said. “But we really do need to shake a tailfeather. If we don’t check in within the next three minutes, I am going to be late to the rehearsal dinner.”

Annabeth helpfully decided not to mention that it was almost 1 and the rehearsal dinner was at 6. This choice had nothing to do with the fact that she couldn’t quite get her mouth to work normally.

The next four hours passed in a blur of flower arrangements and napkin rings and seating charts. Helen and her dad had gotten married at a courthouse on a layover in Boston, the city where they’d met, while both of them were on their way in different directions. It had made sense at the time, with both of them being busy professionals who valued their careers, but over the years it had begun to weigh on Helen. With their fifteen year anniversary coming up, Helen had declared that she wanted a real wedding, and that meant a hotel and a dress and so many flowers that Annabeth had started wondering if there was a warning on the invitation. Helen was in her element, which meant she was out of her mind. She’d planned the whole thing herself, of course, and she was determined that it would be perfect. Her definition of perfect and Annabeth’s were always a little bit different, but at least it was going to be a well-run event.

“Annabeth, Matthew, I need you to take the bouquets with the freesia downstairs and put them on tables two, four, and ten. Do not even approach table eleven, because Angelica Franco will lose her mind if she finds out that there was freesia anywhere near where she’s sitting and I’ve just gotten the seating finalized. After that, you are free to dress. Thalia, dear, I just need your finger to tie the last of these gift bags and then you can go as well,” Helen had been dictating tasks to them for long enough that they all just nodded. Annabeth hadn’t even seen her room yet. Thalia had been tasked with dropping off the bags while Annabeth made suggestions about nail polish. She reached down to grab one of the bundles of white and purple blossoms while Matthew easily grabbed the other two, and the two of them headed off. 

“So…” Matthew said as they entered the elevator. The room where the reception was being held was on the second floor, so guests could look out over the beach, but their rooms were on the twelfth, so it really wasn’t worth taking the stairs. “Mom and Dad seem to be taking all this well.”

“Helen’s taking pictures of us kissing. I think you don’t need to worry. They’re a little intense, but it’s been fine.” Annabeth answered, bumping his shoulder lightly enough not to damage any of the delicate flowers. He chuckled.

“I didn’t know if you actually noticed that. You seemed a little distracted.”

Annabeth had dated people before. She had had these conversations. She knew was she was doing. 

“Ah, sue me. I’m halfway on vacation with my hot… girlfriend.” She knew that there was always a tremor before she said girlfriend. She’d have to get better at that. But Matthew laughed again, so he seemed not to have noticed.

“Fair enough, fair enough. I wouldn’t be paying a lot of attention if I was dating someone who looked like Thalia. I did think your type was cleaner cut, though, with that parade of business bros you were seeing.”

Annabeth had not considered the possibility of someone catching her based on her type. Did she have type? All the guys she had dated in college had been polo shirt types, which was a commonality, but they all looked so different she had never noticed. And Percy hadn’t really been that type. He’d also changed his major from business to marine biology in sophomore year. Percy was more like Thalia, not the sort of thing anybody had expected from her. Not that Thalia should be seriously considered as part of her type. They weren’t dating. But, it was good to have the Percy comparison in her back pocket to defend herself with if somebody else brough it up. She could make it sound reasonable with a bit of practice. The elevator arrived at the second floor and she left before Matthew could push further.

“What can I say? I’m branching out,” she said over her shoulder. Matthew rolled his eyes and followed her. They spent a few minutes arranging the bouquets, Matthew waving one of his over table twelve teasingly.

“Let’s see Angelica Franco pick up on that,” he laughed.

When they were done, Annabeth took a second to survey the set up. They had gone spare for the rehearsal dinner, just a few larger tables and no decorations other than the effusion of flowers, which were white with hints of purple. She had seen Helen’s rehearsal dress, a deep purple sheath that stopped just above the knee. All of it was still overdone for her taste, but she understood the appeal. It was going to look gorgeous in here, with the sunset over the beach behind Helen and her dad. 

On the way back up, Matthew started getting fidgety and opening his mouth without saying anything. Annabeth waited patiently. He had always been the more nervous of the twins, and trying to drag stuff out of him mostly just resulted in him clamming up. Bobby was the opposite; browbeating him was the only way to distract him long enough to get any information half the time. Eventually, Matthew spoke up.

“Should I tell them tonight?” he asked, not looking at her. Her heart dropped a little. She had no right to be giving this advice, technically. But, also technically, she had come out. She had kissed a girl while her parents watched. It just hadn’t been real. And her little brother needed her. She could do this.

“I think, if you’re going to do it tonight, you should do it now. Give them a little bit of lead time before they have to go host. But, no, I don’t think it’s a bad idea. It’ll get it out of the way, and you can actually enjoy the rest of the weekend.” He looked at her and smiled, albeit shakily. 

“Okay. That makes sense. I’m gonna tell Bobby first, and then Mom and Dad, and hopefully they won’t put together that you already knew.”

The elevator doors dinged, signaling Annabeth’s floor. Her late RSVP meant that her and Thalia were on the floor below the rest of the family with the miscellaneous guests. Matthew gave her a quick, hard hug. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

Annabeth truly couldn’t wait to just sit down for a moment. They had been given an hour to get ready before the rehearsal started, and she certainly wouldn’t need all of it. She swiped the room key tiredly and pushed the door open. 

The sight that greeted her was immediately challenging for a series of reasons.

The first thing her brain actually managed to catalogue was that there was loud music playing through a beat-up looking laptop on a desk, something with a lot of drums and bass and screaming guitar.

The second thing was that, instead of the two queen beds she had been expecting, there was a huge king bed that dominated the main space of the room with both her and Thalia’s bags on it.

The third thing was that Thalia was standing at the end of said bed, wearing nothing but black formal pants and a lilac colored lace bralette.

The fourth was that the bralette was partially see-through.

Annabeth closed the door and sat down in the hallway. She wasn’t the sort of person who blushed very easily, but she felt the heat in her ears. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Thalia getting dressed before. They had shared a room for three years, and Annabeth didn’t consider herself a particularly modest person. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that, while she could call up memory after memory of hanging out wearing nothing but her underwear and having conversation fully topless, Thalia had always been dressed. At most, she had seen Thalia’s bare back as she changed. That probably explained her reaction, the blush, the dryness in her mouth. She was just sitting out here to give Thalia space, because that was probably what Thalia wanted. And then Annabeth would go in there and get dressed and everything would be normal. Yes. It was just surprise and respect for her friend that was make her hands shake just a little as she fidgeted with the key card.

The door opened. Thalia stood there, looking confused and still not wearing any more of a shirt. Annabeth furiously did not notice

“What the fuck are you doing on the floor?” she asked. 

“I thought you might want space to get dressed?” Annabeth said. Thalia quirked an eyebrow. She had always had expressive eyebrows. Annabeth would kill to know what they meant.

“We’re dating, weirdo. Get in here.” Thalia pulled her up off the ground, and Annabeth absolutely did not notice the way the lace shifted as she bent over. 

In the room, everything was much as Annabeth had originally seen, with the small addition of a jacket she had not noticed in the closet. Thalia sat down at the desk with her laptop and pulled out a makeup bag. There was no mirror in sight, but she started applying eyeliner with a practiced hand. 

“Let me know if you need help with anything,” Thalia said. Annabeth took a deep breath. This was perfectly normal, of course. All she had to do was get dressed. Helen wasn’t having bridesmaids, exactly, but she had picked out Annabeth’s dresses for the weekend, to make sure it matched the colors. It was lighter than Helen’s own dress, but darker than the purple Thalia was wearing, a knee-length off-the-shoulder dress in a light satin. She had liked the way the light played off of it in the store, and the way the dip in the back had highlighted her muscular shoulders. And now she was going to just take off her t-shirt and jeans and—

And her bra. This was a strapless dress, and she had a strapless bra to go with it. And that was fine! She had done this before with Thalia in the room! Hell, one time she had taken Thalia bra shopping with her and Thalia had been in the little cubicle. She was just tired and stressed from having to keep up this lie. Everything was perfectly normal. There was no good reason for anything to be weirder than it had been before Annabeth had come up to the room that she was going to be sharing for the rest of the weekend with her fake girlfriend real ex-best friend and seen her—

Annabeth took off her shirt. See, that was fine. Thalia was applying a deep plum lipstick, still with no mirror. She took off her jeans. Also fine. Annabeth had stayed for Thanksgiving break once, like Thalia always did, and hadn’t put on anything other than underwear for the whole break as an act of rebellion. That hadn’t been weird. She took off her bra. Perfectly fine. Not a problem. She was standing in a room with Thalia wearing nothing but underwear that she was not suddenly aware of the revealing cut of and it was normal. In fact, she stood around like that for an extra second to prove just how not weird it was. Then, she grabbed the strapless from her bag and started to put it on. Strapless bras were always so much more of a bitch to put on than regular ones, and this one had four hooks, so it was doubly difficult. Annabeth struggled with it for a second.

“Fuck,” she said under her breath. There was a sound of chair on carpet and Annabeth froze.

“Need help?” Thalia said. Thalia sounded normal. Annabeth could be normal. They had done this before.

“Yeah,” she said, and her voice definitely did not break in the middle. Then, Thalia’s hands were on her back, warm and callused from playing the bass. She took the straps and Annabeth let her hands fall to her sides. She had never felt like this before. She had no idea what to do with it. She felt the bra hook. 

“All done,” said Thalia, patting her shoulder. “Need anything else? The dress looks a little complicated.” Annabeth turned around and she did not look at Thalia and she did not think about her underwear. She had needed Helen’s help to get the dress on in the shop. She tried to remember the coldness of the zipper, the bright white of the lights in the store. Helen had teared up. The lights in the hotel room were off, but the curtains were open, and it was still light enough out that she could see. Not that she saw anything in particular.

“I could use some help with the zipper,” she heard herself saying as she walked over to where the dress was hanging in the closet. She did not think about Thalia standing behind her, or the view that Thalia would have. The dress was gorgeous even in the half-light, and smooth to the touch. She pulled it off the hanger, unzipped it, and slipped it over her head. A little bit of the room came back into focus as she felt the fabric rasp down her body. She did not turn to face Thalia. She felt Thalia’s heat behind her as she approached. The zipper slid smoothly. Annabeth was dressed. She turned to face Thalia. She was close, eyes intense. Thalia met Annabeth’s eyes briefly before gazing at her lips. Annabeth did not know what to do. She never didn’t know what to do with a little bit of thought, but this time she had no idea. She felt her lips part slightly, knew she was going to say something but had no idea what, and then Thalia was fixing the shoulder of her dress and turning away to flick on the lights. It was like all the air had suddenly been funneled back into the room, and Annabeth hadn’t noticed when it left.

“You should do your hair and makeup before we’re late,” Thalia said, sauntering into the bathroom and closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to make up for the last update with this longer and sooner one. It sort of got away from me at the end, but I think I like how it turned out. Lmk if you think I should change the rating/chase this plot thread at all. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6: Thalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thalia has a stressful day and makes a realization

We are standing silently in an elevator and I’ve simply never felt stupider. I know that gay people preying on their straight friends is a homophobic stereotype. I know that Annabeth is straight. I know that this isn’t real. I do. And, honestly, I didn’t think the bralette would be a thing. One time, Annabeth sent me a picture and asked if I thought her pubes looked normal.

I don’t know what happened. I was getting dressed, Annabeth came in, freaked out, and suddenly I was zipping up her dress in a half-lit room and wishing I was doing the opposite. We hadn’t spoken since she exited the bathroom. She wasn’t looking at me. I wasn’t looking at her, but the elevator was polished enough that I could look at her and not look at her at the same time. Her hair was piled on top of her head with a few curls dangling loose and I wanted to wind them around my finger. Her makeup was simple and clean. She looked polished and beautiful and like she belonged on a magazine cover. In the wavy reflection of the elevator, I was a smudge, all dark clothes and hair and makeup. I looked like a corrupting influence. God, she was going to hate me.

The elevator dinged our destination. I watched as she plastered on a broad smile, took my hand, and strode out, all without looking at me. This was going to be an absolute disaster. 

The rehearsal itself was dull and uneventful. I wasn’t part of the wedding party, so my only job was to sit in the audience and not cause problems. At least Annabeth’s dad and step-mom looked so radiantly happy that nobody was paying attention to one slouchy lesbian. The bad news was that it allowed me more time to brood. I just kept running over the events in my head, trying to figure out where I had slipped up.   
The bralette was a purposeful choice, as casual as possible, to show that nothing was weird between us. I guess it was a little worn? I’d always been so careful around Annabeth that maybe I had actually been too casual and confused her. It had been weird from the moment she stepped into the room, the energy way too intense, so I’d stepped away to do my makeup and give her space, but offered help. That was normal. Friends help each other. And then, as I was zipping up her dress, it felt like everything quintupled in intensity. I’d zipped things for her before without issue. Well, without the sort of issue we had just run into. I knew what I was getting into. What could have changed?

And suddenly the rehearsal was over, the guests moving in a tide to the room for dinner. It was large and airy, with a huge window dominating the back wall that showed the sunset over the ocean. I appreciated the effect, though I couldn’t help but imagine the probable thousands who had stood in my spot and had the exact same thought. It was a smaller event than the wedding itself would be, only twenty or so people outside of the family, so it was easy enough to figure out where I was supposed to be. The head table. Next to Annabeth. Perfect. I tried not to skulk as I approached. Helen greeted me with a broad smile and a hug.  
“Thalia! You look absolutely wonderful, darling. Purple is your color,” she said before gesturing me to my appropriate seat. Annabeth was distracted, lobbing a fallen flower at one of her brothers and laughing. She turned to me, not quite done laughing, and my heart broke all over again. I had started to like her because she wasn’t as perfect as she looked, but I had fallen in love with her like this, all blonde curls and grey eyes and delight. It was the combination of her looking just as perfect as I’d feared and the thoughtless vulnerability of the way she laughed, like a kid without a worry in the world. I could never do anything but laugh with her. There was a beat as she saw me and considered going silent again, but then Bobby threw another flower at her and she nodded and I understood that whatever problems we were going to have had to wait at least til the end of the flower war.

Helen made us stop throwing things rather quickly, but dinner was still a delight, all bad jokes and kicking each other under the table and champagne. Annabeth held my hand like she wanted to, instead of like she had to. I played with one of the curls framing her face. She laughed. I laughed. Everyone laughed. It was difficult to be upset around people so obviously happy as Helen and Frederick. Annabeth disappeared briefly to have a conversation with Matthew that ended in a tight hug. The rest of the family nodded like they understood what was happening. Matthew headed off. As the clock chimed nine, Helen and Frederick started saying their good nights. Have to be up early for tomorrow, they said. So much still to do. Eventually, Bobby said he was headed to his room to drink anything that wasn’t champagne. The rest of the guests had drifted off. Annabeth and I were left nearly alone in an empty dining room, surrounded by empty tables and serving staff. I watched Annabeth set her shoulders, drain her glass of the remaining champagne, and look at me.

“I think that we should talk,” she said. I froze. This was it. The set of her shoulders suggested that she didn’t want to be doing this any more than I did, which meant that it was bad. I nodded mutely. “Okay. Let’s go to the… umm…” she glanced around. 

“The bar?” I offered. It was neutral-ish ground, and we wouldn’t be alone. Less intense than the room, at least. It was her turn to nod, and by what seemed like habit, she took my hand as we walked. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb.   
The bar was a confusion of dark wood and light marble, half-full of what looked like a mix of renewal guests and vacationing Midwest parents. Annabeth sat down at a small table and nodded for a waiter.

“I’ll take a cosmo,” she said. “And she’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

I was not going to get emotional over the fact that Annabeth still knew my drink order.

The drink came, and were serviceable at best. Annabeth played with the stem of her glass and was back to not looking at me. I tried desperately not to push her, people watching instead. A woman in a bright pink polo shirt nursed a matching glass of wine and berated what seemed to be her husband about his lack of interest in her. The bartender watched the waiter cross the room and ignored a customer. A man at the end of the bar snored softly.

“We left out a few crucial pieces of information,” Annabeth said suddenly. I relaxed in my seat. That didn’t sound like she hated me, and the brightness in her eyes suggested she was interested in whatever she was about to bring up. I took a sip of my drink and savored it. It wasn’t actually that bad.

“Yeah?” I asked. “I thought it was going well. Helen, at least, seems to love me.”

“Helen loves everyone, and she’s too distracted with all the renewal stuff to ask any real questions. Tomorrow is going to be the big day anyway. Um. I just realized that there are a few things I don’t know that would probably color the way we interact. Just, like, in terms of how lesbian relationships normally progress.” She looked down and away, and I watched her blush just a little. Despite my best efforts not to be too intense and the near overwhelming feeling of being a corrupting influence, I found myself getting more interested when she blushed. Annabeth was not easily embarrassed. Whatever she was about to say would have to be major.

“Consider me your resident lesbian expert. What can I do for you?”

“Well, first and foremost, we’re going to have to dance tomorrow. Who leads? Both of us? Do we just pick someone beforehand?” That wasn’t what she wanted to ask, but I was more than willing to answer.

“We pick someone. It would be a disaster if we both led. I can handle it, if you prefer.” I hadn’t considered the dancing. It was something to look forward to. Her, in my arms, the music, the ambiance of the wedding… god, Jason was fucking right. I was a mess. I got one nice evening and I was already back to pretending that all of this was real. 

“Um. I had it brought to my attention that you’re not my type. Do you think that’s a problem?” she asked. I laughed out loud and she shot me a look. It was part wounded, but mostly to make me shut up.

“Do you mean the tits, or something else?” I asked. She blushed almost violently. Interesting. I seemed to have hit a nerve. However, the whiskey was beginning to color my choices, so it may have been affecting my interpretations as well.

“I just mean that Matthew said something! You’re not as… preppy, I guess,” she said. The business types had all been the living approximation of a polo shirt and boat shoes, so I supposed I didn’t fit in. 

“Fictionally, you’re a lesbian now. Your tastes in men are highly irrelevant,” I said. She nodded like I’d said something clever. Her cosmo was almost gone as well, I noticed. Sometimes, Annabeth had a tendency to drink more quickly so she could say unpleasant things, or things she deemed unpleasant. I had a vague memory of her stumbling into my room, slurring and declaring that she wanted to live with me. She had to have something else on her mind. “What else?”

“Um. Well. I guess I don’t have a very good understanding of how fast lesbian relationships move, and I have a point that I would like to compare between lesbian and heterosexual relationships and I need you to weigh in,” she babbled. She was gesturing emphatically and not making eye contact. She really was nervous about this. I leaned in and nodded for her to continue. “Well. So. My question was, and I promise this is not weird and won’t be weird, but. Um. We’ve been dating for three months. Would we have, by the traditional standards of a lesbian relationship, had sex by now?”

As Annabeth blushed furiously again, I felt the pieces click into place. In the room, I had done everything the same as normal. I had been more normal than usual. I hadn’t changed anything or created the weirdness. It was her. And, if I investigated the weirdness for even a second, it was obviously not weirdness, it was real, actual sexual tension. And I hadn’t done it. My mouth dropped ever so slightly open, and I snapped it shut. This had to be handled carefully. Annabeth was too drunk to even begin to broach the topic of her being less straight than anticipated. Plus, there was the renewal tomorrow. So much to do. 

But the littlest, stupidest bit of me which spoke up every time she texted me, every time she flopped into my bed and declared a sleepover, every time she sat in my lap when there weren’t enough seats, the bit of me I had been killing in her absence, came roaring back to furious life. I wasn’t reading it wrong. I wasn’t wasting my time. There was something there. There always had been. I wasn’t some awful, corrupting influence, taking advantage of someone who thought they were my friend for my own benefit. If this never came to anything, I would be fine, because all this time I spent loving her wasn’t wrong. 

“Um,” I said, gesturing for the check from the waiter. “Realistically, probably yes. But I think that that is a somewhat complicated conversation that might be better for sober minds. And after we spend another four hours running flowers around for Helen.”

Instantly, I knew that I had done something wrong. Her face crumpled and tears sprang to her eyes. Then, she blinked slowly, smoothed everything out, and nodded. Her eyes were distant and she looked deliberately off and to the right of my face rather than at me. It was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright I am giving fanfiction another whirl to banish the corona blues. This is obviously going to be a longer piece, but I don't know exactly how long yet. Gonna try to update weekly. I don't have a beta right now, but I'm kind of on the hunt, so let me know if you're interested.


End file.
